Generations: Elliott's Cian
by Rougeification
Summary: A new arrival at Waterloo Road is greeted with many things: an arrogant head, boring classes, a shy and pretty girl, her hot and outgoing friend, and the cooler. He catches the eyes of many people within the school, but can any of them look deep enough to find what causes him to commit his acts of vandalism and anarchy? Features Ghostie69 and NeveyG's OCs & Swearing and drug usage.


**Thank you for choosing to read this! I figured that I'd never be able to keep up with the running cast, so I've decided to make my own staff of teachers they are:**

**Eddie Lawson - Head**

**Rachel Mason - Deputy Head**

**Tom Clarkson - Head of English**

**Grantly - Head**

**Mika Grainger - English**

**Also, I'm including Ghostie69's OC, Alaya, and NeveyG's OC, Jayda. Check them out! **

**I'm quite pleased with it, I tried to make the scenes the duration of an episode, hence the length. It's the longest chapter I think I've ever written for a fanfic - 6 pages. Anyway - tell me what you think about it, and I'll try hard to update as often as I can, and take on your input.**

I stopped at the gates, examining the school before me - it was a dump. Nothing short of a dump. I had been to three other schools before-hand, and I knew what a dump looked like - and this was nothing short of a tip.

Let me introduce myself: I'm Edmund Cian, 17 years old, and the only reason I'm in this dump of a school is because I chose to be here. You see, my dad's an overbearing control freak with more money than brain cells, allowing him to constantly surveil me through his benefactor's position at my old school. So, we had rocked up to Machester - fucking _Machester -_ to attend Waterloo Road - didn't sound particularly impressive.

I walked down through the gates and into the school grounds, past the groups of students already outside in their small social circles and crowds. The uniform here seemed generally more relaxed than my other schools - at least this meant I wouldn't get any more lectures of 'proper dress'.

I opened the doors and walked into the building, following the crowd of students around my age until I came to a large green room with a mass of bookshelves and sofas. I noticed two relatively friendly-looking people sitting on the sofas - a boy and a girl.

"Elliott." I introduced myself, extending a hand with a small smile. The boy took my hand with a polite grin.

"Alright? I'm Grant."

"Page." The other girl introduced herself in a thick Geordie accent - it was quite amusing hearing her talk, but I hid my grin. "Are you re-taking your GCSEs too?" I shook my head.

"Mate, it's sick!" Grinned Grant. "We're getting paid to re-take them - just to sit in class!" I nodded.

"Yeah, and you might even get some qualifications as well!" I said sarcastically, with a subtle look of mock shock on my face - neither of them got my sarcasm.

"Yeah man!" Grant smiled enthusiastically. "I'm going to go into management as soon as I'm finished! Own a load of those mint cars outside!" I dropped my gaze down to the floor to hide my grin at his idea. This guy was going nowhere in life. At all.

"What do you think of your new common room?" I turned around to see a man enter the room, followed by an excessively arrogant figure in a pinstriped suit and a smart haircut. Great - he was here. Fan-fucking-tastic. The pupils murmured their approval. "Well, let's hear a hand for the man who made it all possible, Mr. Cross!" All students applauded, apart from me. I leant on the table at the behind the two men, determined not to pander to their egos. "So, I understand we have some students from Stillsbrook High here - do you want to introduce yourselves?" A series of pupils began to introduce themselves - none of their names familiar to me, as I had only just come to Manchester. While I was thinking about this, I noticed the figure, who I presumed to be the teacher, turn to me. "What about you?"

"What about me?" I asked.

"You can speak can't you?"

"Apparently so." I said abruptly, awaiting his angry reply. A few of the students tittered, giving me a nice little ego boost. The man's smile faltered a little from embarrassment.

"Care to put it to good use?"

"Define 'good use'." His smile was wiped off of his face completely.

"I asked you to introduce yourself." He stated.

"Well, technically, you asked the students of Stillsbrook High to introduce themselves - I'm from Woodhouse College." The man gritted his jaw as he faced the pinstriped figure.

"You never know who the first headache of the day will be do you?"

"This is Elliott Cian, Mr. Lawson. My son." I clenched my jaw and looked away from them both, exhaling angrily from it. Great - whoopty-fucking-do. The big secret was out - alert the media! "I trust you'll take this as a sign of the good faith I have in this school?"

"I came here because I chose to - it was only after that you decided to buy the place." I muttered, walking away from the duo, and toward the kettle to make myself a cup ocoffee. I waited until they were gone and for the muttering to cease until I turned back around.

I saw another student there - a little shorter than me: she was a brunette, and her her hair was perfectly straight, hanging down past her shoulders in a simple side parting. Her tie was very loosely tied around her unbuttoned shirt, and she sported a light red hoodie over the top. I grinned as I walked over to her, as she knelt down on the floor, picking up her notes that had fallen out of her ringbinder, that lay to the side.

"Aren't folders usually meant to _hold_ the notes?" I asked. She looked up at me for a second, with a pair of piercingly blue eyes. They were extremely light and hard, in contrast to her soft features.

"Apparently not." She smiled politely. I grinned in return and knelt down to help pick up her notes.

"You've got a lot of notes considering we haven't had a lesson yet?"

"Just taking an early start." She smiled slightly once more before standing up, pulling her skirt down her thighs a little bit while muttering a breathless thanks to me as I passed her her notes. "You're Elliott right?" I nodded.

"Yeah - I guess I was sort of introduced." I waited a few moments for her to say her name. It took her some time before she realised I was waiting.

"Oh, I'm Alaya." She finally said. I smiled.

"Hi Alaya." I checked my timetable. "Hey, do you happen to know where Ms. Grainger's classroom is?" She nodded.

"Sure, follow me."

We walked down the corridors side-by-side in total silence, apart from the occasional "thanks" I would get for holding the door open. I guessed she was kind of shy - either that or she didn't like me that much.

"So, you took English then?" She finally said.

"No, I just enjoy sitting in the classrooms." I said with a straight face. It took her a few moment to realize I was joking.

We reached the classroom, and Alaya's friend signalled her to sit in the vacant seat next to her. I moved to the row further back and sat down at an empty desk. The teacher walked in after a few minutes.

"Alright class, calm down." She said - an air of confidence emmenanted from her, but it didn't hide her nerves. I couldn't help but smile at it - it showed she cared I guess. "My name is ms. Grainger. Now, we're going to be studying Shakespeare." There was a collective groan from the rest of the class. I rolled my eyes as the teacher continued to talk, and leant back, taking a magazine out of my bag. I leafed through the first few pages, and glanced up to see Alaya quickly snap her head back to the front. I smiled to myself - she seemed nice - kind of shy, but nice.

"You at the back." I looked up at Ms. Grainger, who was staring directly at me, along with most of the class. "Is that _King Lear_ you're reading?"

"The abridged version." I smiled. She walked towards my seat and took the copy of NME, walking up to the desk.

"You can get this back at the end of the lesson." I rolled my eyes and let out of a breath of boredom. "I'm sorry, do you think that you have nothing to gain from this lesson?"

"Honestly? No, I don't."

"Well then, maybe you can tell me in lunch, in the cooler." I smiled.

"Gladly." She turned back to the board and resumed teaching.

I looked at the girl sitting beside Alaya who had turned around - her curly hair was dyed in a deep purple colour, which stood out impeccably when it fell to the deep grey hoodie on her shoulders. I smiled, as her green eyes spoke out - they were very deep, and almost

soft - which contrasted with her stoneish and sharp face - the opposite of Alaya it seemed.

"You alright?" She smiled - a dazzling smile to be sure - perfectly aligned white teeth. "I'm Jayda." I returned the smile.

"Elliott."

"I know, I heard earlier on." She continued to smile, and rested her jaw on her palm - her sleeve went down, revealing a small tattoo on her wrist.

"Think or believe?" I asked, smiling.

"You speak French?" She asked, an impressed grin flashing across her face.

"Un peau." I winked. "I went there last month for a bit."

"Why?" She asked.

"Fancied it." I shrugged, breaking out into another grin.

"Wouldn't you have been in school last month?"

"Kicked out." I answered.

"How come?" Jayda asked, obviously intrigued, while Alaya attempted to mask her curiosity. I noticed this and couldn't help smiling - utterly fascinated by it. I turned back to Jayda.

"Reading magazines." I smirked. She returned the smile, and Ms. Grainger interrupted our conversation.

"Jayda, stop flirting with the new boy."

"Sorry miss." Jayda mumbled, although it was clear she wasn't. With one last smile, she turned back to the front.

"Well then, since you have a lot to say, why don't you tell us how the tension builds in the opening scene?" I smiled - child's play.

"Well, the repetition of the word 'nothing' increases the pace, and the use of broken syntax adds to Kent's words "old man", as well as Lear's "dragon" and "wrath", and it all reaches a final climax at Cordelia's disinheritment." I waited for Ms. Grainger to respond - I had studied King Lear at my old school - it really wasn't that hard. She was just lost for words - I loved seeing teachers like that - it was really inspirational.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Elliott Cian." I answered.

"Well, you might just have to take the class Elliott." I grinned, and Ms. Grainger continued teaching. "Alright, I want you all to couple up, and go through the following scene together, and pick out parts of the scene that you think reveal Edmund's intentions." I leant forwards, towards Alaya, who was trying to focus on her work.

"Couple up?" I asked with a smile.

"What?" She turned around to me, confused.

"You and me? Couple up?" She was silent for a moment, looking at me, utterly bemused. "Working together?" She realised what I meant finally.

"Oh - yeah sure." I smiled and moved up to the desk beside her, sitting on it. "Do you get any of this?" She asked, slightly red - I guessed it was because of the heat?

"It seems pretty basic." I nodded.

"I thought it was quite complicated..." she said with a nervous smile that I couldn't help but return.

"It's Shakespeare, not Russian." I took my own copy from my desk and flipped it open. "See, here Lear is saying "nothing shall come of nothing"-"

"Well, I got that bit."

"So, what didn't you get?"

"Nothing." She said, hesitating. "The monologue bit." She answered after a moment.

"Which monologue - it's a pretty big play..."

"The bit where the guy comes on and talks about being a bastard."

"Edmund." I acknowledged the character. "He's talking about being born out of wedlock."

"That's it?"

"And then there's the whole betraying-his-family plot, but pretty much." She let out a small chuckle. "You know, if you want, I could tutor you a bit on it." She was hesitant. "Free of charge." I grinned once more.

"I don't need tutoring thanks." She answered, looking down at the book, slightly sullen. I bit my lip, thinking.

"Well, how about you just come around tonight then?" She looked up at me.

"Tonight?" She repeated.

"Don't have anything else going on do you?" She paused for a moment, mulling it over, until she finally shook her head. "Great - I'll give you my number later on? I'll text you the address." She nodded.

Not a bad first start to the school day.

The doorbell rang, prompting me to ease myself out of my sofa, and walk down the stairs. I opened the front door, and made way for Alaya to enter.

"Hey." I smiled. "Find it alright?"

"Yeah thanks." She smiled, coming into the house. She wore a faded union jack on her t-shirt, which fitted perfectly, as did her jeans.

"Your house is _really_ nice." I grinned.

"Thanks - do you want to come through?"

"Should I take off my shoes?" She asked, gesturing to her pair of converses. I grinned at the idea.

"Why would you need to do that?" She paused for a moment to think and then chuckled nervously. We turned to walk up the stairs, only to find that my dad was blocking the way, holding a glass of wine. He looked between myself and Alaya.

"I thought I heard voices." He said with a smile. "I'm glad that my boy is making friends. Are you going to introduce us, Elliott?" He said, as if it was due to him - therefore I owed it. This frustrated me beyond belief.

"We're going to my room." I stated.

"You'll have to forgive his manners." He stated. "It's not been easy for us - we moved around a lot. Then of course, last year-"

"Shut up." I cut him off. He paused, looking again at me with a stern face.

"But I'm sure things will be better at Waterloo Road." I was staring determidely at the floor. There was an awkward pause in which Alaya chose to break the silence.

"I'm... sure they will Mr. Cian."

His face softened, and he faced Alaya. "And what's your name?"

"Alaya." Alaya said with a polite smile.

"Pretty name for a pretty face."

"Can't you just piss off?" I finally burst out - just before Alaya could say thank him. My dad looked between us both and then nodded once, exitting into the lounge. I turned back around to her. "My room's up here." She nodded, her face unreadable.

We reached the top of the stairs and I opened the door, admitting her to the room. I plastered on my smile and turned around.

"Here it is." Her jaw dropped.

"You sleep in here?" She asked.

"Amongst other things." I said, walking behind my pool table and examining the many bottles on the shelf. "Do you want a drink?"

"A drink?"

"Yeah. Rum, Whisky, Vodka, Gin... I think I might have some Tequila somewhere..."

"Can I just have a coke?" She asked. I nodded, genuinely smiling.

"Sure."

"Actually, you choose." I nodded hesitantly, unsure of why she changed her mind.

"Rum and coke." I decided, and turned around to make the drink. I poured myself straight whiskey, and turned around with the drinks, handing her hers. I sipped some of mine, my eyes falling past her face and onto the pool table behind her. "Do you fancy playing a bit?"

"Oh, I'm not very good."

"Yeah yeah, they all say that." I rolled my eyes, moving over to the table and handing her a cue and then began to set up the table.

"How does your dad let you talk to him like that?" She asked - this must've been burning in her mind. I shrugged.

"Well, he's lucky I talk to him at all." I found it hard to keep up the smile I had plastered across my face when talking about my family.

"Well, isn't he going to give you a hard time-"

"Just forget about it Alaya, yeah?" I said eventually, cutting her off completely. "This is all my space - he doesn't need to be in here." I tried to maintain a cool attitude as I said it - but I could tell she knew it was a sore subject because she immediately shut up, nodding. I took a mouthful of Jameson and proceeded to take a cue and start playing pool.

In no time at all, Alaya was loosing - maybe she actually wasn't good at pool. I turned to her.

"You really are awful at pool." I stated.

"I tried to tell you." She giggled. I couldn't help but genuinely smile around her - something that I hadn't experienced in over a year. I put my glass down on the endtable beside hers and moved forwards, cupping her face and moving in for a kiss. Our lips met, and I felt her sink down slightly. I moved my hand down to her waist and hoisted her up onto the table, our kissing paced to the sounds of cheap guitars and repetitive riffs on the hi-fi. I shrugged off my loose shirt, and continued to kiss her, her hands less active as before hand. I sensed something was wrong, and pulled back. "Are you okay-?" She darted out of the room and through the door next to me, where I heard splashing sounds as she knelt over the toilet. "Ah shit." I muttered to myself. I walked over to the toilet, managing to make out some drowsy 'sorry's. "Here." I held her hair back behind her head and began to rub her back, trying to make her feel better. After a while, I took out my phone, and called up the local cab service. It was challenging talking over the splashes, as was trying to decipher the address from Alaya. Eventually I put her in the cab and sent her back home, shaking my head.

Typical. Absolutely typical.

As I turned back into the house, closing the door, my phone sounded. I checked the number - unknown. Curious, I walked back up to my room, answering it.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey Elliott." I grinned at the voice.

"Jayda. How'd _you_ get my number?"

"Girls have their ways." She said simply. "Do you know where Alaya is?"

"She's on her way home."

"Oh, where was she?"

"Around here."

"You move fast." Jayda said, her smirk evident through the phone.

"Why would it matter if I did?" I asked, grinning.

"Well, it would matter because I'm free to meet up with right now." I grinned.

"Sorry, I've got my emotional therapy right now."

"Whatever." She chuckled. "Well, call me if you change your mind."

"I'll be sure to." I said, hearing her hang up a second later. I bit my lip, and then walked over to the window, opening it and then opening the drawer to take out a roll-up, lighting up. I took a drag and exhaled out of the window. Emotional therapy indeed.


End file.
